


Demi

by heaven_s_gate



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Character Study, Demiromantic Aziraphale, Demiromantic Character, Demiromanticism, M/M, Other, Pining, Romantic Angst, Sexuality, Sexuality analysis, Slow Burn, dont mind me just projecting loool, slowest burn of all time lmaoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heaven_s_gate/pseuds/heaven_s_gate
Summary: Aziraphale's love comes slowly, takes its time to build. Will Crowley be able to wait?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 8





	Demi

Aziraphale was not a human male, he was an angel, an ethereal being, and therefore human terms were not exactly correct. When making an effort, however, it would be correct to call him a gay man. [1] Aziraphale was decidedly not like most angels, he was hedonistic and indulgent and found that he rather enjoyed earthly pleasures. Food, reading, dancing, and even the pleasures of the flesh. In a crude manner of speaking, he had fucked his way through the millennia. [2] If someone asked, Aziraphale would argue that engaging in carnal desire was not at all sinful if it was done for love, and as angel of the Lord it was in his job description to love all of God's creatures. But if Aziraphale was _honest_ he had never been _in love_ with anyone in the whole of his time on earth. Well. Not fully. Not until 5,945 years in. 

\---

 _ **London, 1941**_

_**  
** _

"That was rather kind of you." 

_"Shut up."_

Aziraphale's mind caught up with him."Oh the books! I forgot all the _books._ Oh, they'll all be blown to-" 

Crowley cut him off by handing him the Nazi's bag, containing all of the rare books of prophecy Aziraphale had brought with him that night, ones he cared _deeply_ for. 

"Little demonic miracle of my own," his friend said, brushing past him to his car, "Lift home?" 

" _Oh_ ," Aziraphale thought, feeling as if the wind has just been knocked out of him. He didn't think this would happen so soon.

" _There it is._ " 

\--- 

**_Soho, 1967_**

  


"You go too fast for me, Crowley," Aziraphale admitted, finding himself getting out of the car quite hastily. 

He hadn't meant to say it like _that_ , but the words seem to just slip out. And he meant them, at his very core he did, but he dearly hoped his poor demon wouldn't take them the wrong way. He was _in love_ with Crowley, and painfully so, but it wasn't safe, wasn't _acceptable_ , and Aziraphale felt quite overwhelmed at the prospect of acting on his feelings. It would not go over well with their respective sides for one thing, but Aziraphale had also never felt this way before. He was _terrified_. He had just given Crowley _holy water_ , a favor he had refused for over 105 years, and one he dearly hoped wouldn't turn out to be a mistake. 

As he stood watching the Bentley drive away, however, he felt as if he had made a different mistake entirely. 

\--- 

**_St. James' Park, 1850_**

The paper said simply, scrawled in black, messy handwriting, "HOLY WATER." 

Aziraphale felt his stomach drop. He looked at Crowley, and back at the paper. 

"Out of the question," the angel said. 

"Why not?" 

Aziraphale felt himself analyze several thousand years' worth of interaction in an instant, searching for signs that would lead Crowley to _this_. He found very many more than he would've liked. 

"It would _destroy_ you. I'm not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley," he shoved the paper back at him, feeling himself begin to get a bit sick. 

"Thats not what I want it for, just insurance," Crowley hissed back. 

Aziraphale refused once more, they argued, and he stormed away, feeling exposed and scared. Did Crowley really want to hurt himself? To leave forever? Or was it truly to defend himself from other agents of hell looking to bring him harm? Was it a trick to finally expose Aziraphale as the less-than-angelic angel he really was? He highly doubted that last thought was true, but worried over it all the same. 

"Oh heavens," Aziraphale said to himself, "I can't _lose him._ " 

\--- 

**_Oxfordshire, 2019_**

**_  
_ **

"You can stay at my place, if you'd like." 

If someone with a bit of knowledge on sexuality and romantic orientation were to be asked, if they had somehow observed Aziraphale and his thoughts throughout his 6,023+ years, [3] they may label him as _demiromantic_. Aziraphale, unlike some other ethereal [4] beings, did not find himself falling in love with someone upon meeting them, or even falling for someone quickly. Aziraphale was slow, and his love built with time. 

It could be said, however, that after meeting a certain demon on a gate outside of a certain garden, Aziraphale found himself thinking, "Oh. It's you. It's going to be you." If someone were to ask for an explanation or the context of said thought, Aziraphale would find himself incapable of answering aside from a blush and a hasty shuffle in the other direction. 

In other words, romance was not instantaneous for Aziraphale, it had to be earned. One must earn his trust again and again to earn a place in his heart. One must follow him _anywhere_ , do the most _kind_ [5] things for him, and _wait_ for him, no matter how long it took. Aziraphale just worried that last term would be too much for the only one he truly loved to accomplish. 

He worried that all of this time spent will have been for nothing, if his feelings were not returned, if Heaven and Hell were to punish them for their crimes. If they were to _lose_ each other, right after gaining something so precious. 

"I don't think my side would like that." 

\--- 

**_London, 2019_**

**_  
_ **

Aziraphale and Crowley turned to face one another, and a Nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. 

Aziraphale felt as though his cheeks would burst from smiling. He finally felt ready, Crowley was right there beside him, and the world was all right. Heaven and hell be damned. 

Dinner was filled with laughter and chattering [6] and delicious food and drink. They could finally love, and be loved, in peace. 

  


[1]: Another way one could describe Aziraphale was to call him a transmasculine person, as he had been created genderless and sexless, but found himself rather fond of presenting as a man and being seen as such by others. Of course, he never was one to follow the rules so rigidly, so he also found he landed a bit masculine-of-center, a bit inclined to be nothing at all. 

[2]: He had exclusively been with men. There was only one woman Aziraphale found himself attracted to in his lifetime, but who could blame him when she had such lovely copper hair and piercing golden eyes? 

[3]: Almost like someone reading a book or analyzing a television series. 

[4]: Or _occult_. 

[5]: Though he doubted said person would like being called kind in any capacity. 

[6]: Mostly on Aziraphale's end

**Author's Note:**

> I have a second chapter about halfway completed exploring Crowley's demisexuality, let me know if that's something you'd be interested in if i were to finish and post it ! Thank you for reading <3


End file.
